Talk Me Down

Today is the 1st anniversary at my job. Yea!!!! But, there's a problem. You guys, I'm restless. Like, "needing to move" restless. I'm feeling the dull ache of the need go somewhere new and also feeling slightly suffocated. I don't feel like I need to leave tomorrow, but the thought of being here in 3-5 years is, well, quite disenchanting. I've grown bored of Minot (OK, I've never gotten above the boredom), but now it seems as though it will be perpetual. I mean, can Tivo really sustain a person? Can dining at Applebee's and going to bars with men in tapered-leg jeans and Nascar t-shirts really be good for the soul?

Maybe it's a balance. I've spent more time in my apartment in the last year (ok, 4, with the exception of the "jason" period) than I did in 7 years of college/law school. I've also spent more time alone during that time period, too. So, over the last 10 years, I've probaly spent a normal amount of time in my own residence. Truth be told, I get restless, no matter what. I want to meet new people. But people like me. And I don't think they live here. If I can't have new friends, I want my old ones back.

So, this is the plan. All of you will quit your jobs and move to Minot by September 15. If you do not do so, I will imprison you at my summer bash and you will miss out on your last 6 weeks of civilization. You can bring your loved ones and your pets. Hell, you can bring strangers, as long as they're misfit toyland types. We will take over at least one bar in this town and populate it with our own kind. We will spawn children and, in 6 generations, we will have eradicated the ills of this town. Long after we're dead, the Magic City will be filled with bright, unmotivated binge-drinkers that laugh at obscure humor and feel bad if they lose at a game of trivial pursuit.

If you fail to follow my plan, you will be forced to listen to me complain and/or move to a town near year, only to load up my unpacked boxes and head off to the next town after a few years. By then, I should be able to waive my bar admission into most states and I'm coming after you. And, just maybe, the law firm of Oxford Goetz Williams & Henderson, P.C. will exist in Texarkana (TX or AK, we're not sure yet). OK, Williams never agreed to that, but someone's gotta do the work. Someday. Someday.

Mission Almost Accomplished

The $350 Litter Box

Self-cleaning, my ass.

Balance

So, I just spent the last 3 hours (plus atleast 3 hours last week) balancing my check book. For the first time in at least a decade. I'm almost positive the last time I tried my hand at it, I was a 20 year old college junior taking an accounting class from a Ms. Jean Hartman, or something like that. The only thing I learned in that class is that it was a bad idea to open a grocery store in the 1970s. Seriously. That's it. "Hard times. Hard to pay yourself. Hard to pay your employees."

Natalie Portman Gangta Rap

Weezer, How I Love Thee

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In Honor of the Wedding...

The End of the Line

It's OVER!!!!! The wedding, that is. Aside from some blips and bitchings here and there, it went relatively smoothly. And that even takes into account the fact that, in the middle of pictures, my sister's seamstress decided my top needed to be redone, so she took it home and resewed it.

I'm tired but I'm alive and I haven't been excised from the family trust. Not yet, anyway. The reception/dance was lots of fun and a few of my even friends went the distance (literally) and came up for it. P-Funk, Jerry Bartz, the federalis, and my friend J were all there, which was awesome. The federalis even decorated my hotel room in streamers and a "sweet sixteen" birthday banner, which was a nice surprise after spending 16 hours primping, posing, standing, drinking, dancing and, worst of all, smiling. My friend J and I even attempted to hook up our younger siblings. We'll see how that goes, cross your fingers.

My parents must have felt guilty about the wedding on my birthday thing because I made a haul this year. Diamond neclace, a suit, and tulips.

Oh, and I got on the stage and led the crowd to David Johanning's choreography for "Car Wash."

And now I'm at work, a little hung over and a lot unmotivated.